


Cutting In

by captainshellhead, vibraniumstark



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: First Dance, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, jealousy but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 20:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11021379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainshellhead/pseuds/captainshellhead, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vibraniumstark/pseuds/vibraniumstark
Summary: Steve is nervously making his way through the gala's stock of Champagne. Tony is none the wiser.





	Cutting In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ishipallthings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishipallthings/gifts).



> Yet another charity-fill for ishipallthings! Two down, one to go :)

The young man distributing flutes of champagne to the partygoers was beginning to look concerned for Steve’s health. 

Steve took another glass, pointedly ignoring the significant look that earned him. From his perspective, Steve had been cleaning him out over the last couple hours, with no sign of stopping. He probably thought he was a lush. 

Steve couldn’t help it. He may not be able to get drunk, but there was something fortifying about having something to occupy his hands. Liquid courage... only in his case it was just a placebo, something to keep him from simply hovering awkward and motionless in the middle of a crowd of gala guests, and something to keep him from begging off for the night and heading back to the mansion. 

Steve’s gaze kept drifting over across the room, eyes scanning the crowd for Tony.

_For God’s sake, Rogers, it’s just a dance._

His mind had been on a rollercoaster of indecision all night. Steve hadn’t wanted to grab Tony’s attention too soon after they’d arrived. He had guests to entertain, after all, and this was still something of a work function for him, even if it seemed like a party. But then he’d kept finding excuses: he’d let him finish his conversation, he’d just grabbed a drink, the song wasn’t romantic enough, or too romantic, he’d look like he was trying too hard…

Steve had blinked and hours had disappeared, along with far too many flutes of champagne.

(At this rate, the party would end before Steve found the right moment.)

The song changed, and Steve downed the last of his champagne. The tempo of the music slowed, the upbeat jazz transitioning to something slow, crooning. He probably wouldn’t get a better chance than this. 

The waiter looked relieved when Steve handed him his glass and didn’t take another. Steve could see Tony across the ballroom, elbows propped up on the bar, facing the dancefloor. 

Tony’s face lit up, and Steve’s heart skipped a beat in the moment, thinking Tony had spotted him. But instead Tony’s gaze settled somewhere off to Steve’s left. There was a woman there, squeezing her way through the crowd. She looked harried by the crush of bodies, but happy. Tony greeted her easily and gestured for her to join him at the bar.

She was stunning, with a wide nose and high cheekbones. She could have been a model, or a movie star. Her hair, effortless and natural, framed her face and brushed her shoulders. She hitched up the bottom of light blue dress and settled into the stool next to Tony. Tony leaned in then, murmuring something to her, and she laughed into her palm.

The dress matched Tony’s eyes. The thought lodged itself into his heart like a blade. 

Steve closed his eyes and took a breath, pushing down the crush of disappointment, of jealousy, of _something_.. Then he turned, and he walked away. 

He made his way to the balcony, tried the doors, and found them locked. The service hallway was the next best thing; Steve made his way there as quickly as he could without making a scene. He wanted away from the crush of people. He wanted...well, he wanted to go home, but he’d seen Jan and Wanda charming martinis from the bartender, and he wanted to make sure they made it home safe. He leaned against the arch of the door, away from the majority of the crowd, and watched the mulling patrons disinterestedly.

Steve hadn’t recognized the woman, but Tony had looked delighted to see her. She certainly looked like she belonged in his company, fashionable and melding easily with a crowd. And here Steve was, in a suit that Jan had picked out for him, hiding in the hallway and watching the caterers shuffle past. 

Had Tony invited her? Steve wanted to kick himself. _Of course_ Tony had brought a date. Isn’t that what people do for these sorts of events? Tony was handsome and charming, surely he had plenty of people who would love to spend the evening with him, or the night….

Steve bit his lip. He was feeling sorry for himself. He should be happy for Tony. Tony was his friend, and he’d looked happy like Steve hadn’t seen in days. He’d been very busy at Stark Industries, short staffed and overwhelmed with picking up the slack. Steve could tell that it was wearing on him, balancing his overtime at the office with his work with the Avengers. Tony deserved some time off and a chance to relax. 

On the other side of the dance floor, Steve watched a couple stumble through a few graceless steps. One of their neighbors somehow managed to trip over the poor man’s foot, and when he turned to apologize, Steve realized that it was Hank. Jan giggled into his shoulder as he stammered through an apology. Steve watched Hank stumble through for another few moments before deciding it might be time to rescue him.

“May I cut in?” he asked, tapping Hank on the shoulder. 

Hank looked like he might cry from relief. “Please,” he said, which sent Jan into another giggling fit. 

“Oh, I suppose,” Jan said. She pecked Hank on the cheek, “You’re off the hook for now, Blue Eyes.”

“I thought you two were taking dance classes?” Steve asked once Hank had retreated to the bar. 

“Oh, we are!” Jan said, a delighted grin tugging at her lips. “He’s getting much better.”

Steve offered her his hand, and she took it with all the grace of a practiced dancer. “Well, hopefully I’m an okay substitute.”

The song wasn't overly romantic, but the music was slow. Steve wasn't very practiced at dancing, but it was hard to actually be bad at dancing with superhuman reflexes. Jan seemed to have no complaints, since she allowed him to lead without much stumbling over each other in the way that she and Hank had. It was getting later in the evening, and the champagne was free; the dance floor was rapidly filling. Steve steered them away from a frumpy middle-aged couple that seemed to be trying to get their neighbors to join them in whatever kind of dance they thought they were doing. Jan seemed to approve of Steve’s choice, and politely didn't notice them when they tried to wave them over.

"I'm surprised so many Avengers came," Steve commented. Including Jan and Hank, they'd also managed to convince Wanda, Pietro, Clint, and Carol Danvers. Even Don Blake had shown up for a while, though he'd had to leave early to get ready for clinics tomorrow morning. Maybe more impressive was that they hadn't all left the moment they were done serving the food; Steve could only imagine the open bar was a significant player there. They seemed like they were genuinely having a good time.

"Tony was very persuasive," Jan said. "He's been guilt tripping us all week."

"That's how he got me too," Steve chuckled. Tony hated going to these functions alone. Steve had on good authority that a the number of his friends he invited to these parties was directly proportional to the number of people he'd been obligated to invite (and fully intended to avoid). A large group of superheroes to disappear into was apparently an excellent avoidance tactic. It was hard to complain that Tony wasn't schmoozing when he had the excuse of Urgent Avengers Business to pull him away from a poor conversation partner.

Steve glanced back to where Tony was sitting, and his stomach twisted a little at the sight. The woman was still there, whoever she was, but now they'd settled in and seemed to be having a very involved conversation. Apparently Tony hadn't needed to backup after all. He seemed to be having a grand time...Steve slowed a little and turned himself and Jan somewhat to get a better look. 

“Are you done with dancing already?” Jan asked.

"Hmm?" Steve pulled his gaze back to her. “No, I can keep going.”

“Really?” Jan asked, eyebrow raised. “I feel like I’m boring you.”

“Ah, no, sorry,” Steve stumbled through an apology. “It’s nothing like that. My mind is just...elsewhere.”

He hadn’t meant to glance in Tony’s direction, but me must have, because Jan’s head swiveled around to gawk, scanning for the source of Steve’s distraction with absolutely no subtlety. He muttered a little protest about her at least _trying_ to not look like she was staring. Jan shushed him. Had he not known her, Steve might have been able to hold out hope that she wouldn’t put two-and-two together, but Jan knew him far too well for that. Who needed telepaths when Jan could read you like a book? Her gaze settled on Tony. 

She burst out laughing.

“Oh, Steve! You’re grumpy because Tony isn’t paying attention to you?” Jan asked.

Steve didn’t think it was that funny. Maybe he was just being selfish, and that's why Jan was laughing at him. Tony _did_ look like he was having a good time. It was petty of him to be upset about that, especially since he'd missed several chances to ask Tony for a dance earlier. Maybe he would be better off cutting his losses and going home, after all. He wasn't exactly making the best company right now, anyway. He should apologize to Jan for dragging her into his pity party...

Jan’s expression switched from amused to puzzled, and then concerned. He was sure his own expression was something akin to someone who had just bit into a lemon. She slowed in her dancing, and then tugged him by the hand to the edge of the dance floor. “You’re actually upset, aren’t you? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Steve said. “I just…” Steve bit his lip. He'd always been able to talk with Jan about these sorts of things, and he doubted she would be anything but sympathetic... even if he was being unfair to Tony. "I just wasn't expecting him to bring a date. That’s all...and I wanted to...well, it doesn't matter now." 

Steve shrugged, as though maybe if he pretended it didn't bother him, that might actually be the case. 

“Oh, honey, if she’s his date, her fiancée really jumped the gun when she commissioned their wedding dresses.”

Steve stared at her blankly, processing, for long enough that Jan gave his shoulder a little shove. “What?” he asked dumbly, to which she just rolled her eyes. 

Jan leaned in with a fond smile on her lips. “Her fiancée stopped in last week to commission their dresses,” Jan said, “She mentioned that Renée was moving here from Chicago and on the market for a job. I happened to know that Tony was looking to fill some openings in his engineering department.” Jan squeezed his bicep. “If anything, this is an orientation, not a date.”

“Oh,” Steve said. So she wasn't actually Tony's date? 

“Excuse me,” Steve said. “I have to...sorry, you’ll have to wrangle Hank again.”

“Done dancing?” Jan teased.

“Not quite,” Steve said.

When Steve turned back to where he'd last seen Tony sitting, he was gone. Steve made a little frustrated noise in his throat and spun in a circle, looking for him. He located him at the other side of the room, gesturing for Renée to follow him.

"Tony!" Steve called, maybe a little too loud, since several people turned to stare. Tony raised an eyebrow at him, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Steve tried again in a lower voice. "Sorry. Hey, Tony."

"What's up, Cap?" Tony asked. 

"Are you leaving?" Steve asked nervously. Of course it would be Steve's luck, for Tony to leave the moment he got his act together, after a whole evening of missed chances. 

"I was just going to introduce Dr. Lesage to her new coworkers. Did you need something?"

"Well, I wanted to ask you..." Steve glanced behind him. The music of the last song was winding down, switching to something slower. This was probably the best chance that Steve would ever have. "Will you dance with me?" 

Tony smiled, confused. "Dance with you?" he parroted. 

Steve swallowed hard. He forced himself to meet Tony's gaze, Tony who'd spent his entire night off chatting with a potential employee just so that he could lighten the workload of the rest of his engineering department, who looked cautiously confused maybe a little hopeful. Steve reached out and took Tony's hand. He ran his thumb over the rough, calloused skin of his palm. "Please?" he asked. 

Tony's disbelieving look split into a grin. "I would love to," Tony said. "I would absolutely - uh. One second." 

Tony turned back to Dr. Lesage. She shrugged before Tony could even say anything. "I would never say no to more hors d'oeuvres."

"Thank you. It was wonderful meeting you, the crab cakes are delicious, I'll find you tomorrow for more introductions," Tony said, and then he dragged Steve toward the dance floor as though missing a single note of the next song was a matter of life-or-death. On their way toward the dance floor, the waiter serving champagne caught his eye. Steve waved him off and followed Tony with a grin.


End file.
